


Detention

by neverending_shenanigans



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternate Universe - The Breakfast Club Fusion, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cliche, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Darcy/Steve Valentine’s Exchange, F/M, Jane Foster Loves Science, Matchmaker Natasha Romanov, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Has Issues, unbeta-ed so far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3452726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_shenanigans/pseuds/neverending_shenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes teachers hate their job. Sometimes they love it. Contrary to popular believe, not all teachers love to have to give a bunch of kids a saturday of detention. But it's a necessary evil in the education business, and at least supposedly it helps the kids to think over the errors of their ways, and by the end of said detention they will be better and make sure to never have to get detention again.</p>
<p>The later part is doubtful, but one can sure say that the lifes of the five students Darcy Lewis, Steven Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Barnes and Jane Foster is changed after their period of detention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valeris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeris/gifts).



> I am deeply sorry that I have to post this unbetaed. February has turned out to be a horrible month for me - first I had to throw a very unpolished version of this on tumblr before leaving for a 7-day-seminar, and after i returned on the 22nd i was down with a horrible stomach flue. I'm on my way to recovery, but as to not post this too late here, I post it un-betaed for now.
> 
> It will, absolutely, be beta-ed and updated later. I promise, for once.
> 
> For now, I wish my Valentine Valeris all the fun in the world with this. I added the prompts at the end of the chapter. I think I managed to include most of it.

 

_Contrary to popular belief, Phil didn’t hate his job. Sure, being a teacher wasn’t exactly what he had dreamed of becoming when he had been a kid himself, but as far as jobs went, he always thought himself lucky. He was good in handling people, good with kids, mostly. Just like every job, though, his had ups and downs._

_When he looked up at the small woman sitting in front of him, in her violet scrubs, the dark circles under her eyes and the worried, tired expression on her face, he already knew that he would hate this conversation. Because contrary to poplar belief, Phil wasn’t actually that much a “sucker for rules” as the kids put it. And having to tell their bad deeds to the parents actually pained him, most of the time, just as much as it pained them to get caught._

_Phil sighed, crossing his hands in front of him, trying a weary smile that the lady sitting opposite of him didn’t reciprocate. She was really young, he couldn’t help but think. “So, Mrs. Rogers. Your son was having detention today. Again. Were you aware of that?”_

_The woman frowned, running one hand through her blonde hair. The look of defiance she gave him reminded him quite a lot of her son’s. “Are you implying that I wouldn’t have known? Because if this is a conversation about me being a single mother, I’m leaving right now.”_

_Phil raised his hands, as if in defeat. He felt for the woman. Despite this being 2015, single-parents were still often targeted for not being there enough for their kids. “I wouldn’t dare to imply any such thing, Mrs. Rogers. My sister is a single-parent as well, and I have high respects for anyone in your position. I was merely asking if Steven let you know where he was, and why he was in detention. And if you know why I asked you to come in now.”_

_Having formerly leaned forwards, as if ready to dart out of her chair, Sarah Rogers leaned back again. The expression on her face made room for her obvious tiredness again, as she shook her head. “No I…. no. I had double-shifts this week. I’m a nurse, you see. It’s hard on Steve. I know I’m not around as much as I should be, or as he’d like. Not that he’d ever complain. He’s a good boy, but he just… .” For a moment, she fell silent, as she realised that she immediately started to defend herself and her son. Phil had noted it as well. Mrs. Rogers sighed. “Did got into a fight again, didn’t he?”_

 

* * *

 

 

Hell, he hated this job. Had someone told Nicholas Fury that he would end up the Director of a damn High School earlier in his life he’d have laughed out loud. And Nick made it a point of not laughing.

 

And now he had to waste his Saturday on a group of brats, all of whom had collected 8 hours of detention one way or another. Which meant 8 hours of detention for him as well, in a way. The only good thing was that he had a good chance of making this day so horrible for them that they’d finally learn to behave like people, and not monkeys. He would piss them off just as much as they pissed him of, and hopefully this would be the last he had to hear of them.

 

Nicholas crossed his arms behind his back, as he slowly walked through the rows of tables placed in the library for this occasion. Four rows to each side, and each kid having a row of their own.

 

The one in the back row on the window side was Darcy Lewis. He had no freaking idea what the hell was up with Lewis. One of these damn billionaire brats that just liked to toe the rules, probably. Though she sure didn’t look like a billionaire kid, with her knit-hat pulled low into her face, in that oversized military-coat. But she had plenty of smarts.

 

Something that Barnes on the other side of the row sure hadn’t going for him. Barnes had muscles, Barnes was somewhat popular, but sometimes that kid had such an empty, distant look on his face that Nick was pretty sure he was doing drugs. Not that it’d surprise him. The way Coach Alexander Pierce kept pushing the kid he was close enough to snapping either way.

 

And Rogers, sitting in front of Lewis, had snapped a long time ago. Constantly in fights, always picking them, always in trouble. Just the way he was staring at him now, chin raised defiantly, sure made him wish someone would have given that kid a day of detention years ago. Not that it helped. That kid was already a lost case.

 

And then there was Romanoff, in front of Barnes. Pretty face, pretty popular, school queen. He knew the kind. He wasn’t fooled by a pretty face. That one was slick. Maybe she was worse than the others, maybe not. He didn’t like her either way.

 

The only kid who still had potential here was Foster, in front of Romanoff. Smart, perfect grades. But very strong willed, headstrong, and she sure hasn’t learned when it’s best not to insist to be right. Or maybe it was just that brutish boyfriend of hers rubbing off on her. The one in the rugby-team.

 

Nick paused at the other side of the room, just below the clock. “Okay, you little shitheads, listen. You’ll be here for the next eight hours. You’ll be writing essays, you’ll be sorting the books, you’ll be cleaning the sport hall. This will be over when I say it’s over. For now, I want you to stay put. Stay in your damn places till I return with something to do for you. Think about why you’re here, that stuff. Am I clear?”

 

“Clear as the day,” Rogers spoke up, with an eye roll. He’ll be making sure that he’ll be too tired to even roll his eyes when this is over. Nick opened the door, and left. He needed a damn strong coffee.

 

* * *

 

 

There’s an awful moment of quietness, after Director Fury shut the door. The quietness settled over the five teenagers in the room, eyeing each other almost hesitantly, almost defiantly, but surely with curiosity. Why were each of them here?

 

Darcy knew for sure that she had some classes together with pretty much all of them. Rogers, in front of her, had English literature classes with her. Not that she had seen him in many of them. Barnes she had only seen on the field, he was kind of a sports maniac. And of course everyone knew Romanoff. The star of the school ballet, the one every girl wanted to be and every guy wanted to bang. And Darcy would always recognize Foster, with her flannel shirts and her constantly somewhat out-of-it look. The science-geek. The A+ kid.

 

Darcy would have hated Foster for being oh-so-great with the science (in all caps) if the girl hadn’t one pretty positive trait: She constantly got into verbal arguments with the teachers. Like, she literally had no class with her yet where Foster hadn’t had a discussion with their teacher. Either because he did something wrong, or because he had said something that Foster wanted to discuss further, or whatever.

 

How she had ended up here was a bit of a mystery to Darcy, though. Despite all the arguments, Foster was a goody-two-shoes. She could ask her, of course. But Darcy didn’t feel up to that, to be honest. She sure didn’t feel like giving Director Fury more reason to be pissed at her.

 

Instead, she dug deep into the pocket of her coat, which she still wore (because this school was cheap enough not to heat the library) and pulled out a pack of chewing gums. She unwrapped one of it, and started ripping shreds of the paper, forming little balls of it.

 

As if she had heard Darcy’s previous thoughts, though, Foster turned around in her chair, obviously hesitant. She glanced at them. As if she could be subtle. There was no way a kid sitting in the front row could subtly check out everyone behind them without turning around. Which Foster obviously knew, because she did speak up, in a lowered voice. “Why are you guys here?”

 

The hesitation was audible. Clearly, Foster, too, was worried that Fury would return any second and would add another hour on their detention just for talking. She could see it, really. Him standing in front of the door, one ear pressed to, just waiting for them to do something stupid. Darcy didn’t reply, she just snorted at the mental image, which earned her a bit of a confused look from the bloke in front of her.

 

Then Rogers turned to Foster. “Why ask? It’s not like you care.”

 

Way to go, Darcy couldn’t help but think. Why reply at all if that was all you’re going to say.

 

“What, Steve-y, afraid to spill? It’s not like your story will be surprising to anyone.” Darcy turned her head just a bit, eying Barnes, who was hanging pretty laid back in his chair, though his expression was anything but. In fact, the way he was looking at Rogers was pretty much like an invitation for having a fight.

 

Something that Rogers obviously noted as well. He frowned, angry, and stood up abruptly. Which could have been an intimidating gesture, if Rogers weren’t such a tiny, frail guy. Really, it was ridiculous that this kid was one of the schools delinquents, Darcy thought. “What’s your deal, Barnes? Pissed that you can’t be running some more laps for your coach right now? Like the good lap dog you are?”

 

Wow, did these two have some beef going one? Darcy glanced back and forth between them, and almost didn’t notice that Romanoff had shifted in her chair a bit. Like she was ready to leap up any moment now, too.

 

She didn’t have to, though. When she spoke up, her calm voice cut through the tension better than her standing up could have. In fact, it was maybe even more impressive, because she just calmly pulled out a pocket-mirror and a lipstick, tending to her make-up as she spoke. “If I will be forced to stay even a minute longer in this hell-hole, just because you two can’t remain on your asses, you realise that I have friends who will make sure that it won’t be pretty for you two, right?”

 

Barnes glanced at her, with a grin, but Rogers just rolled his eyes. “Like, whom? Your friends in spandex from your ballet-classes? Right. I’m shaking in fear of their dance moves.”

 

Romanoff glanced at him, over her mirror, and flashed him a smile. Not a real smile, though. It was more like a mask. Like that mask of make-up she was wearing. Darcy never cared for make-up. Except lip-stick. And that was probably just to appease her perfectly manicured, pedicured and trimmed mother. “I recall that you were quite eager to dance with a member of my dance-group at the period dance. Peggy Carter, wasn’t it.”

 

There was no reply to that.

 

* * *

 

 

_“I’m glad you could make it, Mrs. Barnes,” Coulson said, shaking Mrs. Barnes hand. She smiled and nodded as she sat down, adjusting the five-year old on her hip. Coulson couldn’t help but think that it was a bit weird much that child did look like her brother, down to the frown. “And this must be Rebecca?”_

_Mrs. Barnes nods. “Yes, I hope you don’t mind me bringing her. I wanted to leave her with my husband, but she is very attached to her older brother and insisted to come along to pick him up.” The brown-haired girl still stared at him, almost angrily. As if she knew that he was the reason why her brother had to be here to day, and her mother, too._

_“Well, it’s best we make this quick then, I should think.” He offered, and Mrs. Barnes nodded with a smile. Unlike Mrs. Rogers, she didn’t seem very fathomed by her son’s being here, or her being called in. Then again, James Buchanan Barnes hadn’t had detention many times before. He was a good kid, very popular among his peers, as was natural for the leader of the sports team, the Howling Commandos. Barnes was Coach Pierce’s pride, and obviously his mother’s pride as well. Maybe she wasn’t aware of the fact that usually the parents don’t get called in if their kids had detention. “Are you aware why your son was having detention today?”_

_Mrs. Barnes nodded, rolling her eyes for emphasis. “Oh, yes, I’m afraid I am. He got into a fight, from what he told me. With someone on his baseball team?”_

_Phil nodded. “Yes, that’s true. He still refuses to tell us what the fight was about, we only know that a former friend for your son was involved, too. Steven Rogers. Usually, though, we wouldn’t press the issue. Kids get into fights, things like that happen. Detention would usually solve the issue, your son is a good boy.”_

_Mrs. Barnes light up a bit as he said that, as if she hadn’t heard the bit where he was talking hypothetically. “He is. James takes care a lot of his sister, and ever since my husband lost his job he’s started carrying out newspapers, to help us out a bit. And he wants to go to college, you know. Coach Pierce says that James has a good shot a sports scholarship, and he is working every hard for it. He knows that it’s his best way to support our family.”_

_“I know, Mrs. Barnes. So I’ve heard.”_

_At this, she laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Of course, that’s not why you called me in. I’m just… I’m very proud of him, you know.”_

_Coulson sighed, inwardly. This didn’t exactly make his job any easier. Because, he really got it. Steven and James were both good boys. And he didn’t like to have to be the one to see the disappointment on their parents face._

_“I see, I truly do. But yes, I called you for a different reason. Mrs. Barnes, do you or your son possibly speak Russian?”_

 

* * *

 

 

Darcy was down to counting seconds. She was counting the terribly loud and terribly annoying ticking of that big clock on the wall. Quite frankly, she was going nuts here. It’d been too quiet for the last twenty minutes.

 

She didn’t seem to be the only one growing restless, though. During the last five minutes, Romanoff had started to move about on her chair, quite frequently turning around with a frown and a glance at the clock. There, she was doing it again.

 

“Having a date, princess, or why are you itchy? Can you stop that?” Darcy was just as surprised as Natasha when it was Barnes who spoke up now. Barnes had his chin propped in his hand, and had been twirling a pen through his fingers, like it’s some sort of game. He, for one, seemed perfectly content just sitting and waiting.

 

When Natasha didn’t immediately reply, it seemed like Steve felt the need to add to it. Probably it’s boredom, or Darcy really couldn’t explain why he’d care. “Maybe she’s having a little tête-à-tête. Maybe she’s having fondue.”

 

“Fondue?” Jane had turned in her chair, and she wasn’t even half-whispering as she spoke. “That… doesn’t mean what I think you think it means.”

 

Natasha didn’t even grace either of the boys with a glance. Instead, she pulled out a nail file and started doing her nails. She did shoot Jane a look, though. “Don’t bother. What would either of them know of dating. They’re just little boys.”

 

Of course, both _boys_ bristled at that comment. “I’ve had plenty of dates!” Both said, though not perfectly u **nisono**. Which made them look at each other a bit angry, and which had Natasha, in turn, snorting.

 

“No. _You’re_ just going out with anyone wearing a skirt, James. And _you_ ,” pointedly looking at Steve directly this time, with what looks more dangerous than a smile should look, “…always ask the girls to go dancing with you, only to leave them dancing on their own, or with a different guy, while you look on. Neither is dating.”

 

“So what is dating then?”

 

Oh shit. Had she really just blurted that out? Darcy froze, as everyone turned and looked at her. She felt dreadfully tempted to just pull her knitted hat deeper, till it covered her eyes. Maybe that way she could pretend that the ground opened up and swallowed her.

 

‘ _Smooth, Lewis_ ,’ she told herself. ‘ _Great way of letting everyone know that you haven’t even had a date yet. Great. Way to go_.’

 

“Oh look. It can talk,” came a murmured comment from Steven in front of her. Darcy gave him a cold stare.

 

Before she could say anything, though, a pencil flies through the air and hits his forehead pretty directly. “Shut it, Rogers.”

 

Steve looked like he was just seconds from jumping up and going for Barnes’ throat. Again. Then he seemed to swallow that feeling. Instead, he just took the pencil, and put it behind his ear. Barnes had an expression like he wanted to demand it back instantly, but Jane chose that moment to, apparently…

 

“Dating is finding the one person who gets you.”

 

… answer Darcy’s question. This time everyone looked at Jane, and Jane blushed. She looked at Darcy for a moment, and Darcy looked back. She hadn’t really expected anyone to answer. But certainly not Foster. Then again, at least Foster really was seeing someone. She would know.

 

“Not too bad.” Natasha tilted her head as she spoke now, giving Jane a once over that did nothing to make Jane’s blush go a way. “You’re dating one of the Odinsons, aren’t you?”

 

For a moment, Jane seemed hesitant. “His name is Thor,” she replied then.

 

At this, Barnes sat up right again, if only just to lean over, so he could look past Romanoff and give Foster a once over as well. If she looked annoyed by that, her annoyance was gone when met with the sudden smile to come up on his face. It was a very disarming smile, to be fair. “Hey, I know Thor. He’s on my team, the Howling Commandos. I didn’t’ know he had a girlfriend.”

 

Jane fidgeted a bit in her chair, twirl one strand of brown hair around a finger. She looked actually pretty, Darcy couldn’t help but notice. “We’re keeping mostly quiet about it. His father is a bit… he’s problematic. I don’t want him to get in trouble.”

 

“You shouldn’t let his parents dictate your life. His father can suck it if he doesn’t like you.” Again, she spoke up before she could help it. Darcy was startled by herself. What’s it with her today? Sometimes she went days without talking to anyone. Especially at home. Why couldn’t she just shut it right now? Could boredom loosen your jaw muscles?

 

She wasn’t prepared for how grateful Jane looked for a moment. “You should tell try and tell him that. Thor adores his father. He wouldn’t want to do anything to disappoint him.”

 

Darcy just shrugged. “Yeah, well. He’ll have to get used to it. Fathers are prone to being disappointed by their kids. I’ll introduce him to my father, he is the king of disappointed daddies. He’ll make Thor’s father look like a+-parenting.”

 

Okay, that was uncomfortably personal.

 

Darcy forcefully focused her attention back on the little army of paper balls on her table to escape the gaze of Jane and Natasha. She looked up, though, when there was a snort coming from the boy in front of her. “Oh yeah, it must really suck to have such a rich father. Giving you all you want sure is super annoying and super bad parenting.”

 

Oh. Sure. _That._ She forgot that everyone _of course_ knew her father. And what kind of genius father he was. Had to be, naturally.

 

“What’s your problem with me?” Darcy snapped Paper balls at him. She shouldn’t, really. Because why the fuck get angry at someone who doesn’t know jack about her and her life? Everyone knew Rogers was always looking for a fight. Why did it annoy her so much that he was now picking a fight with her?

 

“What, do you expect me to like you, Darcy Lewis?” The boy turned around in his chair now, facing Darcy. It was kind of hard to look into his blue eyes, she noted. They’re an extraordinary shade of azure. Darcy’s favourite colour, usually. Just not right now, as Steven looked at her like she was everything wrong with the world. ”The girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth? Who always gets away with everything?”

 

“Seriously, Steve, let the girl alone. You of all people should know that we don’t choose the circumstances we are born into,” Barnes spoke up, rather tensely, and more serious than the golden boy usually seemed to be. Darcy was a bit surprised that this is the second time that he defended her. But she couldn’t really tear her eyes from Steve, who still looked at her with so much pent-up anger and frustration. What the hell.

 

“If I had done what you have done, I wouldn’t be having detention. They’d have thrown me out of school. But it sure sucks to have a father who pulls all the strings for you.”

 

Darcy really, really would have love to punch him in the face then and there. What an ass. What an incredible _ass_. She did jump up, so abruptly, that her chair fell over. “Well, he didn’t. My _father_ doesn’t know anything about why I’m here. He probably doesn’t know that I’m here at all, or that I’m not at home. He doesn’t fucking notice or care if I am around. Not that its any of your beeswax, but just for the record? I would gladly give you all my fathers fucking money. Maybe that way my _father_ would have to talk to me, with less of his toys and his stupid science, and the media and the press and the parties to distract him. So you know what? _Fuck you_ , Steve Rogers. Do me a favour and shove that silver spoon up your ass.”

 

She didn’t wait for anyone to say anything, nor did she really want to see the look of stunned surprise on Rogers face. She didn’t even care that her coat slid of her shoulders and hit the floor with a sound thud. She just stormed out of the room.

 

She ignored, too, that Director Fury was coming towards her. “Hey, were do you think you’re going, Lewis?”

 

“Restroom!” she all but barked at him, trying to fight back the angry tears in the corner of her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

_Counselling always had been something that had him on his toes. It always gave an insight of how the kids you were teaching became the way they were. If you noticed a father being very condescending to his wife, you weren’t as surprised anymore to find that the son had grown up to be a misogyny little idiot. Sometimes you met parents and you instantly disliked them, some you instantly liked. Some parents treated you like the enemy, some like an ally, and a few reverted to feeling like school children. So counselling was always different, and you could hardly predict anything._

_Meeting Darcy’s parents was a whole different level of unusual. He knew from her file, of course, that her family-situation was complicated. Her biological mother had raised her until she was five and then ‘dumped’ her at her biological father’s place, so she could remarry. He biological father, Mr. Anthony Stark, was known as the self-proclaimed “playboy, billionair, philantrophist, genius”. He hadn’t exactly pecked him to be the over-protective father that would storm into his office with a psychologist in tow. Or, well. That’s whom he had mistaken the man whom Stark had introduced as Dr. Banner for. It was good for him that Vigrinia Potts had saved the situation._

_“Bruce here is a friend of Tony’s. He’s just staying with us at the moment. I’ve not been in New York much for the past year, due to my job. Of course I try to video-chat with Darcy as much as possible, but she’s been very closed of lately. Tony is very… involved with some of his project sometimes…” She shot him a glare from the corners of her eyes at that, which made Mr. Stark wince, and Phil was glad he was not at the receiving end of Ms. Pott’s wrath. “…so I thought it prudent to bring along the person in the house with whom she probably spends the most time.”_

_Phil’s expression didn’t give anything away as he nodded and added a neutral “I see. Thank you.” Honestly, though, this was probably all the explanation he needed. Darcy was not the first kid craving the attention of a parent, and trying to gain it by acting up. The only difference might be in the fact that her parents weren’t neglectful in the traditional sense of the word. One was just physically and the other, obviously, emotionally unavailable._

_The uncertain variable was Mr. Banner, who had dressed carefully in a suit, and looked more worried and more nervous than either of Darcy’s parents. In fact, had Phil not known that Mr. Stark was Darcy’s father beforehand, he would have thought it would be Mr. Banner just from his body language._

_“Well, Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts, Dr. Banner. Let’s start this maybe with the basic questions. Were you aware that Darcy was having detention today, and do you know the reasons why?”_

_Ms. Potts frowns and turns her head towards Tony. Tony crosses his arms over his chest, shrugs and leans back. And avoids his wife’s gaze by looking at his friend. Dr. Banner nods, with a bit of hesitation. “Yes. Darcy told me. Is this about her hacking her teacher’s computer?”_

_Phil couldn’t help a smile. He had to admit that even he had been amused when Coach Pierce’s computer had had Dancing Kittens all over it.. Before he could reply, though, Mr. Stark sat up straight. “She did what? Really? Cool. Why didn’t she tell me? How did she do it?”_

_Banner raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t’ say anything. He didn’t have to, because Ms. Potts placed a hand on Tony’s tight. From the way Mr. Stark jumped at the contact, her nails were just as sharp as her smile at the moment. “Tony. I really don’t think this is an appropriate reaction.” Then she directed her steel-cold smile at Phil. “Mr. Coulson, could you please tell us what the repercussions to that are?”_

_“As much as we’d like to, we can’t prove that it really was her. Your daughter is… obviously very gifted in the IT-Department, so to speak. So all we really could do was give her detention, for now. This is about what happened during that detention.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Darcy refused to look at Rogers. She had managed to avoid to look at him in the last thirty minutes, ever since Fury had Natasha come and collect her from the bathroom when she took more than fifteen minutes to come back.

 

It should be easy to avoid him, of course, since Fury was having them write an essay on “ _who they think they are_ ”. But somehow Fury was too distracted by the newspaper he was reading, which gave Rogers plenty of chances to turn around, and make some stupid sound – whistling, clicking with his tongue, whatever – to get her attention.

 

Every time that Darcy was very close to just giving in and looking up the sound finally registered with the Director and he saved her from having to look up by barking out an order at Steve to write his essay.

 

She wouldn’t have thought that she’d ever look up in horror when Director Fury got up to leave the room again, because his phone buzzed. Dammit. Quickly she looked down again, but not quick enough. In her peripheral vision she had seen that Rogers was staring at her.

 

Well, it was only a question of time till he’d speak up. So it was on her to move first, right? As soon as the door snapped shot, Darcy turned around in her chair, reaching for her coat on the floor, and pulling out her beloved, trusty iPod. If Fury caught her with it he would confiscate it, but it was worth the risk.

 

“Hey, Lewis, I’m…-“ Steve already started, but the rest of the sentence was drowned out by David Bowie’s “Scary Monsters” starting up in her headphones. Her eyes were fixed on her essay, of two lines, and she started doodling little monsters.

 

If Steve continued to try to talk to her, she didn’t notice. Bliss was having an iPod, oh yes.

From the corners of her eyes she noticed that Natasha had turned around in her chair, and was talking to Barnes. From the glances they shot in Steve’s direction, it was about him.

 

And then something on the other side of her peripheral vision moved, and Darcy’s eyes snapped to the piece of paper put down in front of her. Which was a little cartoon drawing of her, with her hands at the throat of a cartoon drawing of Steve. Who was waving a little flag with the words “Sorry” written down on it.

 

Darcy stared at it. Stared at the callused, ridiculously tiny hands on the edge of her table. She really didn’t want to, but she looked up, at Rogers. And pushed Pause on her iPod, gnawing on her lower lip. She wasn’t sure what she thought, honestly. She had snapped at him and made quite the scene, and spilled much, _much_ more than she had meant to.

 

She just stared at Steve, and he stared back at her. It was kind of impossible to try and look at him angrily, though. The best she got was a frown. And the best Steve had was, apparently, puppy-dog-eyes. What the hell. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a Labrador?”

 

‘Oh, classy, Lewis. Wonderful, just speak out loud what you think. That worked so well for you before.’

 

Naturally, she had said that much louder than intended to. Naturally, Steve tilted his head a bit, with a grin. Barnes was the one to snort this time. “He does! You should have seen that punk when he was six. Nobody ever stayed angry with him.”

 

Darcy turned to look at Barnes, who had gotten out of his chair, and apparently wandered over to where she sat. From where his gaze was directed, she could tell that he had probably been curious as to what Steve had put in front of her. She fought down the urge to turn it over. Which was a strange urge. It’s not like this was… a love letter, or something. “You know each other that long?”

 

Steve leaned on her table with his right arm and his ribs, propping his feet up on his own table. He nodded, with a very odd look on his face. A mixture of something sad and longing and something bitter. “Yeah, we kind of do. Bucky used to be my best friend. Before he turned into a jock and only had sports and girls on his mind.”

 

At this, James – Bucky? – tensed up. He didn’t look at Steve, and neither did Steve look at him. “You know why I do it. It’s not like I have a choice, Steve,” was Barnes reply, his eyes still fixed on the comic.

 

Steve shrugged, twirling a pencil in his hand, much the same way that Barnes had. “It’s your life, ‘course you have a choice. But I don’t care what you do. Don’t act like we’re still friends.

 

It was Jane, who ha also gotten out of her chair, tentatively, and walked a couple of steps in their direction, who spoke up. “That’s not true. You wanted to get on the team, too, didn’t you.” Both guys looked up at Jane. Steve’s ears were turning red, Barnes looked a bit surprised. “I was there, cheering for Thor. The coach didn’t even let you try, because of your asthma. I remember that, because my father had asthma, too.”

 

For a moment, nobody said anything. And then it was a delicate cough coming from Natasha that broke the silence. “Not to be a spoil sport, but Fury’s coming back. You’d better sit down on your asses. I don’t really want to stay in this room any longer than I have to.”

 

* * *

 

 

_“Dr. Selvig, thank you for coming, “ Phil leaned over the table to shake the hand of the slightly-distraught looking man, who looked like he was at least a decade older than Phil himself, maybe more in the Director’s age group._

_“Um, yes. Mr. Coulson, right? You’re Jane’s history teacher, aren’t you?” He kept glancing back at the door as he asked. Probably a bit put off by the number of parents waiting outside. Dr. Selvig had only come a few times to this school in all of Jane’s high school life._

_Phil nodded. “Yes, I am, but this is not about history. Rest assured, Jane is doing well in my subject, though. What I wanted to talk to you about was today’s events in Jane’s detention.”_

_Dr. Selvig looked confused, for a moment. “Detention? Jane had detention today? She didn’t tell me. She told me she would be at a friend’s place. I think.” He rubbed his forehead in uncertainty for a moment. “Though I don’t think I ever heard of that friend before. But… it’s … Jane doesn’t usually lie. What did she get detention for?”_

_It’s no surprise that Jane hadn’t told her godfather about what happened, Phil thought. It’s been clear to pretty much everyone that Dr. Selvig had been thrown very much out of his comfort zone when his friend had died in that car accident little more than two or three years ago and left him with his teenage daughter._

_“It was only a … dispute between her and her teacher. You needn’t worry about that for the moment, Dr. Selvig. What I really need to talk to you about is what happened during detention.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Apparently, Director Fury had not joked when he had told them that they would be re-sorting the library today. After he had collected their half-assed essays he had brought in five big boxes of new books that someone had gifted to the library and had put one box in front of each of them, telling them to put them in the right shelves. And then he had “places to be” and left again. Darcy was sure that he had even had the audacity to grin at their collective groans before he shut the door behind him.

 

Jane was the only one who got up and opened her box, looking at the books. Everyone else just remained where they were. Something that Jane noticed, too, as she put her third book outside of her box. She looked at everyone with a bit of a confused expression. “Aren’t you going to… sort your books?”

 

Steve shook his head. “Fury can’t make us do this.” To which Barnes nodded in agreement.

 

Darcy yawned. “Maybe.”

 

Natasha shrugged. “I might. But there’s no hurry. He has always been gone exactly 35 minutes before returning, and I don’t think I’ll take this long.” This earned her a bit of a confused look from the others.

 

“What’s it with you and your time obsession?” Barnes asked, again. Natasha chose to ignore him.

 

Jane was frowning a bit, but then she merely grabbed some of her books, walked over to everyone’s tables and put one at the end of each them. “No. We’re doing this now, and the sooner we get over with it the better.”

 

Everyone blinked at the slightly surprising, commanding tone in Jane’s voice. For emphasis, Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re all here for a reason. I don’t know why you all are here, but we’re not making this better in rebelling about such useless things as sorting books. It won’t kill you, and at least we have something other to do than just sitting and being quiet.”

 

Maybe it was ridiculous, but … she was kind of right, wasn’t she? Barnes got up, with a mock salute. “Ma’am, yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed the book she hat put down in front of him, looked at the name of the author, and wandered off to the appropriate shelf.

 

For a moment it looked as if Natasha would actually smile now, but the she just shrugged. “Whatever,” and grabbed the book, too.

 

Steve remained where he was, crossing his arms over his chest. Darcy sighed, and got up. She grabbed her book, and nudged Steve with it, obviously to his surprise. “Don’t be an ass. Come on.” She looked at her book. Isaac Asimov. So ‘A’ it is. Ignoring Jane’s happy face for being able to make them do something, Darcy walked toward the a-shelf.

 

She, herself, was a bit surprised that her nudging had seemingly worked, because Steve was following her, with his book. Darcy looked at the book he was carrying. “The Hobbit? That goes under T for Tolkien.”

 

Steve mumbled something, turned and walked to a different shelf. Wait, had she just imagined it or were his ears turning red again? Darcy frowned a bit, before she walked back to her own box, pulling out two random books. This one was ‘David Copperfield’, so under D it went. Just as she was turning away from that shelf to put ‘Pride and Prejudice’ under A. Steve walked over to her shelf again, his eyes drifting to the book in her hand again.

 

“Oh. I know that. My mum loves it,” he said, pausing next to her. He frowned, like he wasn’t sure where he knew it from.

 

Darcy grinned. “You should read it. It’s awesome. It’s about a damn proud girl with a temper and a jerk-guy with a shitload of prejudices hating each other and then falling for each other. Or something like that.” Oh, shit. That sounded… a bit… double-meaning-ish.

 

Steve looks up at her, and Darcy wasn’t sure what to make of his expression for a moment. Then he smiled, and it’s a genuine smile. “Sounds like I could relate to that.” And before Darcy could really grasp what the hell he just said he moved on. She remained standing, for a moment, looking down at her book. Had he noticed the double meaning and thought it intentional?

 

Hell, had he just said he could fall for her?!

 

No, wait. That would imply she was a ‘damn proud girl’. She wasn’t identifying with that one. Nope. Not at all.

 

She only noticed Natasha coming out from the isle next to her shelf when she heard Natasha speak up. “You know, he’s quite cute. If one likes ‘em tiny and frail and bold.” Darcy looked at Natasha wearily. There, this time she really was smiling. Darcy could see why Natasha was so popular. She also felt that she had a new opinion of the girl now: Natasha was scary.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Darcy mumbled, walking over to the A-shelf. Natasha followed her, with her own book, and put it next to Darcy’s. It wasn’t an A-book. It would go under S. Wordlessly, Darcy took it and walked over to S. Natasha followed her.

 

“You know that his family is kind of bad off. I think he was just jealous of you earlier. Don’t hold that against him,” Natasha noted. Darcy looked at her, for a moment.

 

“I didn’t know that, but I get it a lot. I’m not holding anything against him, though. And I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” Natasha nonchalantly gave Darcy her next book. Darcy didn’t even complain, she just looked at the author name. ‘Orwell’.

 

Again, Natasha followed. What… was happening? Why was the Queen of the school talking to her? For a moment Darcy wondered how she would go back to her regular shut-off self in school after this Saturday. Or maybe nothing would change. Maybe Natasha wouldn’t even greet her when they met in school.

 

“You know, you’re quite cute yourself. I have a purple lipstick that would look really good on you. And I could do something with your hair. Maybe a braid. You could have a lot of guys falling for you, if you wanted, you know.”

 

Okay, now, _this_ was getting ridiculous. Darcy put the book in the shelf, then she turned to Natasha. “No thanks. I quite like myself the way I am.”

 

Before she could add that Natasha could just go somewhere else if she didn’t like the way Darcy looked right now, and before she could demand an explanation as to why Natasha was following her around, couldn’t she just do something else –

 

“I do, too.”

 

Natasha looked triumphantly, and Darcy’s mouth just fell open as Steve dropped this verbal bomb and… walked on, blissfully, as if he hadn’t just paid her a completely uncalled for compliment.

 

And Natasha turned and walked away now, too. As if her job was done. Stupidly smug.

 

Darcy remained feeling nothing but … confused. And stupid. And maybe she was blushing, but that didn’t mean anything aside from the fact that she wasn’t used to compliments, okay?

 

* * *

 

 

Fury was more than pleased with himself, he had to say. At the end of the day, he’d had them doing a lot of work. When he’d had returned to the library and all the books had been sorted, he had decided that he had wasted enough of his time. They had looked positively bored to death, and they would surely not risk ending here again. So, after just three hours, he had let them off the hook.

 

Sure, he had been surprised to find that they had started talking to each other immediately. He hadn’t known that any of the brats aside from Rogers and Barnes even knew each other. But why would he care? The only one he felt pity for was Foster, because clearly these guys wouldn’t be a good influence on her.

 

Still, Roger’s “Hey, guys, how about we put that time to good use? We could… celebrate the day” had seemed innocent enough.

 

Fury had, at this point, not had the faintest inkling on how wrong he was. And on how much he would regret his decision.

* * *

_Coulson stared at the guy sitting in front of him. He’d called him and asked him to come in, but only now did he recognize why that name had sounded so familiar. He frowned. He had not expected to meet one of his former students today. “So, Mr. Barton, you are Miss Romanoff’s Emergency Contact…”_

_Clint Barton grinned, and yes, Coulson did recognize him. And he remembered that very same cocksure smile from many history lessons. “Seems like it, doesn’t it. What did ‘Tasha do? Break someone’s arm?”_

_This was… not how this was supposed to work. Phil frowned. He was … glad, for Natasha, that she had someone she trusted. Seeing that she came from an abusive family and had been in the Foster Care System for a while, it was a bit of a small wonder that the child could ever trust anyone again. But… Barton? “No. Of course not. Natasha is a very good student, and unlike some other of my students that I distinctly remember, Natasha steers clear of trouble, usually.”_

_What was he to make of the fact that Barton grinned at that, in a knowing way? “Really? You think that of her, Phil?”_

_“Mr. Coulson to you.”_

_“Sure. You lost your touch if she has even you fooled, though.”_

_For a moment the two just stared at each other. Phil utterly out of his water at this situation right now, and maybe just a bit peeved at Clint’s words. And Clint just very relaxed. Which was entirely uncalled for. Phil cleared his throat, trying to gain the upper hand again._

_“Yes. Well. Could you please enlighten me as to your relationship to Miss Romanoff before we continue this conversation?”_

_Clint laughed now, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “We’re in a relationship. And she stays at my place, mostly. Aww, Phil. Don’t look so scandalized, I’m not that bad of a catch.”_

_Well, Phil did stare. And then he sighed. Maybe it would be best if he really hadn’t known this. Not because of the age-gap, but… well. Clint wasn’t a bad guy per se, he had been one of his most gifted students, but he also distinctly remembered just how irresponsible Clint had been thorough his school years._

_“… do you know why Miss Romanoff was in Detention today?”_

_“Sure. Don’t you?”_

_Again, they tried to outstare each other. Phil decided that was too late in the day to do this. To care. If it couldn’t go by protocol, he would have to go around it._

_“Well, then let’s talk about what happened after.” Phil pulled out a photograph of the wall of one of the sports halls. He shoved it over the table towards Clint, who leaned over and looked at the picture with interest.Then Clint whistled._

_“Someone is clearly very talented. What does it mean?”_

_Phil pulled the picture of the graffiti back. He sighed._

_“It’s Russian. We caught Miss Romanoff and four other kids who were in detention today running from it. They refuse to tell us who of them did it. And none of them tell us what it means either. I asked one of the mothers, but apparently she doesn’t speak Russian, unlike her son. I was … hoping that one of Miss Romanoff’s guardians would be able to tell us.”_

_Clint grinned at the picture. For a moment Phil actually expected Clint to laugh again, but then he looked up. “So you don’t know what it means, nor do you know who did it. Do you know for sure if it was one of them?”_

_Oh, he knew where this was headed. Phil gritted his teeth. Not because he was really angry, but … actually, he was close to breaking out a smile. Of course Clint would know of this loophole._

_“No, we don’t. They claim they haven’t done it and said that there was some other guy, who had just disappeared miraculously.”_

_Clint got up, grabbing his leatherjacket again. “Well, then I was called in absolutely unnecessarily. If Natasha says she didn’t do it, then she didn’t do it. You know. Because she is a good girl and stays clear of trouble. And her friends sure are the same, I reckon. Pleasure seeing you again, Phil.”_

_Phil was too tired to protest. He just sighed. “Thanks for the conversation.”_

_“My pleasure.” Clint paused at the door. “Oh, and for the record? That means ‘Avengers’. “_

* * *

 

 

They’re standing down the hall, together. Jane left with Erik a moment ago, but not without hesitantly inviting all of them to meet up with her and Thor and Thor’s brother Loki later. They were going to watch a movie. James had left, too, after introducing them to his little sister Rebecca, who actually dumped her brother in favour of latching herself unto Steve’s leg, making him swear that he would come over to play again, because she was missing him.

 

It had been clear how awkward that had been for Steve for a moment, before Mrs. Barnes, too, had asked Steve to come over again. She missed having him around, he made sure that James had his fun, too. Then she had ruffled through James hair, who had looked appropriately embarrassed and all but pushed his parents and his sister out of the school, with a mumbled ‘see you later’ in their direction.

 

That left Natasha, Steve and Darcy. Nobody knew about Natasha’s parents, and when Darcy had asked, she had told her that they wouldn’t be coming. Steve’s mother had left for the hospital again, Darcy had hid from her parents in the bathroom till Pepper gave up and had told Steve and Natasha to tell Darcy that they were leaving without her for now, but they would have to talk once she got home.

 

And now Natasha was looking back and forth between Darcy and Steve. Her eyes settled on Darcy. “Hey, Lewis. Do you still want to know what real dating is?”

 

Darcy blinked. That came out of nowhere. “Err. Yes?”

 

There was something Natasha’s gaze that should have warned her. “I’ll tell you. But only if you can beat me. I challenge you, you challenge me. Whoever makes it get’s a question of their choice”

 

Darcy looked at Steve, who looked just as confused as her. He shrugged, so Darcy looked back at Natasha. “Okay?”

 

Natasha grinned, only looked at the other end of the hallway as Coulson came out of his office. She turned to Darcy. “I challenge you to kiss Steve.”

 

“Whoa. What?” Darcy was sure she was blushing, but it was nothing against what Steve was doing.

 

Natasha grinned. And hell, was that a dangerous looking grin. “Or are you too chicken for it? Here’s your chance. It’s just a kiss.”

 

Darcy frowned. Her stupid pride. But never let it be said that Darcy Lewis backed down from a challenge. “Fine.” She spat out, looking around for a challenge for Natasha. Her eyes light up, and she pointed down the hallway. “And I challenge _you_ to kiss that random guy who came out of Coulson’s office. You first.”

 

Wait. Why did Natasha look so pleased? “Deal.” She turned around swiftly, and walked up towards the guy. Darcy watched, mouth agape, as Natasha paused in front of him. She talked for a moment, fully ignoring Coulson. And then she grabbed the guys collar of his leather jacket, and pulled him down and just full-on kissed him on the mouth. In front of Coulson. And it wasn’t even a tame kiss.

 

For a moment, Darcy wondered if she had turned into a pillar of ice. Because she felt cold, and like she couldn’t move. “Darcy…” Steve said, to her right, hesitantly. Darcy didn’t reply. Didn’t do anything. Holy Shit. What had she gotten herself into? She was an idiot. She should turn and run, however stupid it looked.

 

And then Steve’s hand was on her shoulder. “You know, you don’t have to. It’s just a game. It’s…”

 

Oh hell. Before he could continue and make this worse by sounding like she just kicked him, or something, Darcy turned around, shrugging his hand of his shoulder, and looking at him determinately. ‘Get over with it, Lewis!’

 

She mimicked Natasha’s movements, and grabbed Steve by the collar of his leather jacket. She didn’t have to pull him down, but she pulled him towards herself, before she smashed her lips unto his. She was too forceful, though, and she was pretty sure she just bruised her lips by how hard she smashed her jaw against his. Also, their noses touched because of the awkward angle, and that felt weird as well. And she couldn’t close her eyes. She should have. This was weird.

 

Steve was the one standing rigid now. After a few seconds Darcy let go of Steve rather abruptly, feeling like and idiot. She stared at Steve, and he stared at her, and then she bit her lower lip. “Sorry. I’ll just…” she pointed towards the door, ready to move and try that running option now. Before she could, though, Steve reached up, brushing one strand of hair back. And then he leaned over, much slower then she had.

 

He kissed her much softer, too. Warmer. And longer. His lips even moved a bit against hers without feeling all that awkward. When he stepped back, Darcy inhaled deeply, only now noticing that she had held her breath. “I think we’re even.” Darcy… smiled. Steve smiled back.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The End

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

So, here are the prompts again. I’m sorry I couldn’t get in the necklace somehow, or the puppy, but maybe someone else reading the prompts will feel inspired: 

**Prompts:** **  
**  
\- "The american dream is to walk confidently down a hallway" (re: any movie set in highschool, ever)  
\- Steve needs to get a puppy.  
\- Darcy is always wearing that necklace. It takes a while for everyone to realize it's part of a matched set.  
   
 **Squicks and elements to avoid:** **  
**  
No dubcon, please and thanks.   
    
**Stuff they like:** ****  
  
Darcy Lewis as Tony's Daughter is a big favorite of mine.


End file.
